


The Probability of This Happening Twice

by spookywoods



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 16:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookywoods/pseuds/spookywoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia set Scott up with a math tutor. She also forced Stiles into going on a blind date. At the same place. At the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What fun this is going to be!

Stiles went to grab a drawstring out of habit, and cursed. Damn this sweater. Damn it for being soft and warm, ridiculously fitted, and so crazy expensive he was afraid to even let his normal clothes near it. He’d feel way more comfortable in a hoodie. Lydia thought she was being charitable. Stiles had become her sophomore charity project, being dragged around downtown and dressed up like a Ken doll. Now he knew why. Less than fifteen minutes after she’d left him walking back to his dorm, Lydia called to inform him he had a blind date to get to.

“Like hell I’m going to meet up with someone,” Stiles gawked. “One, you have horrible taste in men. Two, you just got done dressing me up to resemble a high maintenance douche like Jackson. And lastly, I’m not going to play into your self-gratifying pity parade for Stiles just because you think I need to get some and because you think--” Stiles cocked his head, continuing in a voice mimicking Lydia’s, “he’s just my type.”

“Huh,” Lydia said. “He’ll be sitting at a table by the window in a black sweater. He’s already there Stiles, waiting for you to rock his world.” He could hear her smiling through the phone. “You can thank me later.”

He ducked out of the rain and under the awning of Tamp & Grind, the only coffee shop near campus that was really any good. It also had plenty of tables and despite its hipster vibe, lots of good light for studying and keeping awake in those early morning hours. He’d spent entire nights there, pumping himself full of caffeine, thanking the powers that be that the place stayed open all the time.

Entering the shop, a bell sounded, and a few people looked up to see who’d walked in. Stiles glanced around, and rolled his eyes. Tamp & Grind sat on a corner of the building, which translated to at least a dozen tables next to windows, half of which were occupied, each with a single patron.

Great. Awesome. Coffee. He needed something to cling to if he was going to commit to this giant waste of time.

“What can I get you?” the barista asked as he approached the counter.

“Erica?” Stiles’ jaw dropped. He had no idea she worked at the T & G. “It’s good to see you. That chem final was pretty awful last semester, right?”

She smiled and dipped her head a bit. “Yeah, I’m in A and P right now. Between that, the rest of my classes, and work, I’m never gonna get to do intramurals this year.”

That was a shame, Stiles thought. Erica was one of the only girls on his and Scott’s kickball team, and she was one of their best players.

“We’ll never win without you,” Stiles sighed.

The blonde laughed and shook her head. “You didn’t win with me, either, Stiles. So what are you having?”

“Got anything that could save me from the monumental, catastrophic level of embarrassment I’m about to suffer on this blind date?”

“Lydia?” Erica smiled. Stiles nodded and pulled out his wallet. Erica grinned, “How’s a mocha, extra whip sound?”

Stiles laughed, “That sounds amazing.”

He and Erica chatted about classes, and then over the sound of the espresso machine, she asked him which one of the lucky fellas he was meeting.

“I’ll scope him out for you,” Erica whispered as she steamed the milk. “Let you know if the awkward blind date stuff is worth it.”

Stiles repeated Lydia’s description, dark hair, black sweater, would probably be working on something while he waited.

“Ahhh,” Erica’s eyes narrowed at something behind Stiles. Her eyebrows rose in a slow, appreciative look and then she nodded, mixing his drink and adding whip cream. “I think you’re gonna be okay with this.”

“How okay? Like,” Stiles licked his lips. “On a scale of one to ten, how okay will I be?”

She shot him a devious smirk and put a lid on his drink. “Twenty,” Erica’s eyes swept past him and landed on the mystery guy.

Stiles turned around and followed her gaze to a guy in a black v-neck sweater hunched over a textbook. He was scribbling away in a notebook, head bent down, but Stiles could tell the guy was handsome. He was older, and completely gorgeous. His cheekbones could poke Stiles’ eye out, and his scruff looked like a beard burn nightmare. His thick brows furrowed behind his black-rimmed glasses. The guy was ripped, too, and as Stiles clutched his drink he started to feel even more apprehensive about the whole thing. He might be fit, have good hair and a nice smile, but he knew when he was in the presence of greatness. And no designer sweater was going to fool anyone.

As he approached the table and sat down, his eyes fell to the statistical inference textbook the guy was wrapped around.

So he was smart too.

This was going to go so well.

He hated Lydia Martin.

###

“So how do you know Lydia?” the guy asked him. He was tapping his fingers on the table and holding his coffee like it was a life preserver. Derek knew some people got nervous about tutoring, but this guy was on a new level.

“Someone transferring into the department with that many credits is hard to miss,” Derek replied. He closed his textbook and shoved it in his bag. He had no idea what this kid was doing, coming to his first tutoring session without a notebook, textbook, or even a book sack.

He looked like a model, Derek idly thought, with his smooth skin and fussed up hair. Probably got through life on his looks, Derek mused, and watched as the guy lifted his drink to his mouth. That mouth.

“So you’re in her department? Ahh, she knows I like the smart ones.” He was practically jumping out of his seat with energy. Derek stared at him, waiting for him to make a point. Or change the subject. Who was this guy? No wonder he was failing college algebra. “I’m Stiles, by the way,” he held out his hand. “I don’t think we officially introduced ourselves.”

Stiles? Derek thought he was meeting with a sophomore named Scott. Leave it to Lydia to mix things up. He couldn’t believe this was the favor she was calling in.

“Derek,” he replied and nodded, looking down at Stiles’ hand like it was on fire. The kid pulled it back and sighed.

“You’re a junior? Senior?” Stiles eyes fell to his bag and glanced back up to him. “Statistical inference is heavy stuff.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Because, really? Had Lydia not told Stiles anything? “I’m a TA for that class. I’m in my first year of my masters.”

Stiles processed that information with wide eyes and a frown, like Derek’s admission was bad news. “Can we get on with this?” Derek droled.

“Like, what,” Stiles scoffed. “You want to get some food? I could go for a slice of Alesi’s and it’s just around the corner. I really feel like you should always do these things over food anyway, you know? Break some bread, break the ice. Get to know each other.” Stiles stood up and smiled. “How else are you going to see if it’s the right fit?”

Before he knew it, Derek was following Stiles out the door of Tamp & Grind, and walking three blocks to Derek’s favorite hole in the wall pizza place in town. That’s the only reason he agreed to it, because this guy was taking the tutoring thing to an extreme.

Derek didn’t let his eyes wander anywhere other than the sidewalk ahead of them, or let himself smile when Stiles told a story about cartwheeling in the quad for pizza. And Derek definitely didn’t hold the door open and hear Stiles say, “What a gentlemen”, before sitting down for the first time to eat with one of his tutoring clients.

###

Scott thought he saw Stiles bolting out of Tamp & Grind with a husky guy, but he was still a few blocks away and too out of breath to yell. He was late meeting up with his new tutor, and he just silently prayed the guy was still waiting. He needed all the help he could get to bring his grade up and Lydia had promised him the best tutor in the department. As he rushed in, the coffee shop’s aroma hit his nostrils and made him dizzy.

“As I live and breathe,” a female voice rang from the counter.

“Erica?” Scott smiled.

The blonde was making a drink for someone but sent him an appreciative grin. “You just missed Stiles,” she said. “But I think he was in a hurry to get somewhere more private.”

Scott scrunched his eyebrows. “Wait,” he stopped. “That guy he was with...”

“Blind date apparently,” Erica put the finished drink on the counter. “Caramel macchiato no whip.” She turned to Scott and continued, “Lydia set it all up. I’m gonna have to get her to match me up with someone, if they’re all from the same stock as that guy.”

“Lydia?” Scott asked, then he realized he needed to find the tutor. He looked around the crowded tables and spotted a guy sitting alone by the windows. He was wearing a black sweater and a scarf and was nose deep in a book. “Has he been here long?” he pointed.

“Isaac?” Erica nodded. “He’s been here for like two hours. Always takes that table. Drinks a black coffee with soy milk, three sugars.”

Scott sighed. “Give me two of those.”

He got their coffees and approached the table, trying to formulate the best apology that didn’t make him sound completely irresponsible.

“Hey,” Scott flashed a smile. “Sorry I’m so late. I lost track of time at the library.” He set the coffees down and sat across from Isaac. “I hope you don’t mind, Erica told me your drink preference.”

Isaac focused a pair of pale blue eyes on him and paused, as if deciding whether he trusted Scott’s words. “It’s alright,” he finally said and returned the smile. “Better late than never.”

Scott unzipped his bag and pulled out his textbook and notes. “I’m Scott, by the way, and again, I’m really sorry for being late.”

The blond across from him set his book down, The Importance of Being Earnest, and let out a sigh. He grabbed the cup and took a swig of coffee. His brows rose for a moment when he realized the drink was indeed his favorite. Scott watched as his lips curled up into a grin, then the flutter of his eyes beneath his lashes.

“What book are you reading?” Scott asked and picked up the worn text, flipping through the pages. He tried to look anywhere but at his tutor’s face.

“It’s a play. We’re performing it over at the community theatre in three weeks.”

Scott’s smile widened. “And you’re in it?” Isaac nodded and Scott laughed. “How do you find the time?”

“You take the time,” Isaac replied. His gaze fell to Scott’s mouth, and then down to the open math textbook in front of him. “Anyway, listen, Scott. I’ve been sitting here all afternoon memorizing lines, and now all I really want to do is stretch my legs. Do you want to raincheck this? Maybe next time you’ll get here at the right time so we can do this properly?”

Isaac was grinning, something that gave Scott a shiver. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Definitely.”

And before he knew it, Scott was sitting alone in Tamp & Grind, staring at the text his new tutor had just sent him.

I’m giving you a second chance because you’re cute. Tomorrow at 8 sound good?

Scott’s eyes widened. How was he supposed to concentrate during tutoring when his tutor looked like a Greek statue? Suddenly, Scott wanted to give Lydia a piece of his mind. What was she thinking setting him up with a tall, blond, hipster tutor? He had been expecting---well, he hadn’t been expecting Isaac.

He definitely had not been prepared for Isaac. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will Lydia do once she knows about the mix up?

If there was one thing Lydia Martin valued above anything else, it was punctuality. Certain events in life were beyond predicting, and to counter that, one needed to maintain an order, a schedule, to balance it out. 

That’s why when Derek Hale walked up to her desk, sat down, and squinted at her, she sighed with a knowing disappointment that she’d never make it to the other side of campus before the next classes got out. She’d never make it to Tamp & Grind before the lines got bad, or get to the campus police building before Officer Parrish’s shift ended. Not with that agitated look Derek was giving her. 

“Spill, Derek, I don’t have all day.” 

He rolled his eyes. She kept her pretend disinterest and idly wondered if this had anything to do with the next semester’s class schedules. But Derek rarely cared about department issues. No--it had to be something else that was getting his eyebrows in a twist. 

“I’m serious, Derek. I don’t have time for your facial pictionary. I don’t speak the language of Hale Eyebrows, at least,” Lydia smiled and thought of his sister Cora, “Not fluently.” 

“I can’t be that guy’s tutor,” he rushed and crossed his arms. 

She cocked her head and mused on his words for a moment before letting herself feel amusement at Derek’s displeasure. Lydia was aware that Derek lacked patience, but Scott possessed so much charm, it was hard to believe it couldn’t work on even the surliest of people. “Really, Derek, he isn’t that bad. It’s like I said, I would tutor him if I had the time.” 

Derek blinked, a pained expression flashed across his face. Was that...discomfort? Oh, now it was getting interesting. What on earth had Scott McCall said to him, she wondered. Derek explained, “I am more than willing to tutor him, you know this stuff is child’s play to me. It would be nothing at all if he actually wanted me to help him.” 

“What do you mean?” she asked. Scott was wholeheartedly committed to the tutoring, and he didn’t even need that much help just a little push in the right direction. Something wasn’t right. Looking at the clock, Lydia resigned herself to missing her mid-morning second coffee and Parrish time. “What exactly happened last night?” 

“It seemed fine at first,” Derek began, but then his shoulders tensed. “He was a little nervous, a bit overdressed for a college undergrad, and more interested in me as a person than as a mathematician. But I just figured he wanted to get to know me a little so it wouldn’t be so cut and dry,” he said. He rubbed his hands down his quads, and added, “It was sort of refreshing for someone to want to get to know me and not just use me for my brain.” 

Lydia put her index finger to her jaw and turned her head ever so slightly. She absently wondered how on earth Derek didn’t realize how attractive he was and said, “Okay.” And then really digested what he said. Because firstly, that didn’t seem like typical Scott behavior at all. And second, Scott dressed himself with the contents of a fourteen year old’s laundry basket. 

Derek shook his head, “And then he just convinced me to get dinner, and before I knew it, two hours had a passed and I knew his entire life story. I remembered you’d said he needed to prep for the next test really soon, so even though it was really late, I offered for us to go back to my place and start the math tutoring.” 

“And?” Lydia sent him a coy smile and then held out her hand to stop him from speaking. “Let me guess,” her smile widened after it all came together. “He said he wanted to plug his solution into your equation?” 

Derek’s face paled. “No,” he gulped. “He wanted ‘to see the exponential growth of my natural log’.”

Lydia smiled. That was her Stiles. 

###

Scott threw his bag under the chair and sat, purpose and excitement running through him. He had a paper to finish in three hours, and a tutoring session later. He shivered at the thought of it. 

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he’d met with Isaac after their initial failed tutoring session, and managed to get absolutely nothing done. They’d talked about their classes, their campus lives, their interests, and even made plans to go see a band together over the weekend. And the time had slipped away from Scott, and then Isaac was excusing himself to go practice his lines. 

Scott enjoyed getting to know Isaac. The guy was intense, beautiful, but didn’t seem very focused on schooling Scott in math. In fact, Isaac didn’t seem interested in school at all. 

“I’d like to think of myself as a permanent fixture in the philosophy department,” he’d said when Scott asked about his plans for the coming semester. At the time, Scott had brushed it off, and let himself get distracted by Isaac’s animated hand gestures and pouty lips. 

But his test was in the morning. They had to get to work. 

His pocket buzzed and he pulled out his phone faster than he’d like to admit. 

It was Isaac. 

**_Tonight we should roll up our sleeves and dig in._ **

Relief washed over Scott. 

**_Yes,_ ** he replied. 

###

Erica clocked out and rushed out of Tamp & Grind toward her dorm, anxiety and determination battling it out with every step. Of course her building would flood after the latest storm, and her dorm room see the worst of it. Of course maintenance would insist she be out by the following day, giving her mere hours to start packing before her Poly Sci midterm. 

As she approached her dorm, a familiar face caught her eye. “Stiles!” she smiled. “You’re just who I wanted to see.” 

“Oh?” He approached her, clad in a his signature red hoodie, grinning like a madman while clutching a coffee and his bag. “Just the barista I wanted to see,” he returned. 

Erica raised her eyebrow. “That so? Please tell me you don’t need another sidekick in one of your comedic illusion videos.” 

“No, no, it isn’t that.” Stiles frowned. “And for the record, the first one was not supposed to be funny.” Erica sent him a look. He gulped. “I need your help.” 

“Funny thing,” Erica mused as an idea hit her. “Quid pro quo. I would be eternally grateful if you could help me move some of my stuff across campus. It’s gotta happen today.” She peered around him in the direction of her dorm. “Actually, it’s gotta happen like right now.”

Stiles pursed his lips and nodded his head back and forth. “I think I could swing that.” He leaned in and gazed at her through his lashes. “...if you could help me with a certain broody mathematician patron.” 

“Your blind date?” Erica laughed, remembering the hottie Stiles had met up with. She grabbed Stiles and started walking with him. “Could you kindly elaborate?”

“We--” Stiles stopped and tried to hide a blush creeping up his neck. “He keeps avoiding me after we hung out, and I don’t know why. He was super into me. I eventually broke him, you know, and got him to look at me and not all my flailing.” Stiles bit his lip. “I know it must violate some vow you took as a barista, but--” 

“We have no vows, Stiles,” she laughed. “Just overtime.”

“Can you text me if he shows up at the T & G?” Stiles threw up his hand. “I’m not stalking him or anything--okay--maybe mildly, but...I just want to talk to him. I need to make sure it wasn’t something I did or said on accident.” 

“Sure, whatever Stiles.” Erica was sure the guy was into Stiles. Her friend was constantly putting himself down, never noticing how many people were actually crushing on him. “I just need your muscles and your car and you can have your information. Just mention me in the wedding speech.” 

Stiles was in the process of thanking her repeatedly and complimenting her hair when his phone went off. 

“Shit,” he cursed as he glanced at the screen. His big brown eyes looked up at Erica. 

“Stiles,” she frowned. This didn’t look good for her moving plans. 

“I’m sorry, but apparently someone just ditched out on one of my group projects.” He licked his lips and sighed, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “Um, here,” he grabbed her hand and crushed his keys into it. “Take the jeep, use it for as long as you need. Text me if you’re still at it later, I don’t know how long this will take. Powerpoints, you know?” 

Erica watched as Stiles flew down the sidewalk in the direction of the library. “I don’t know how to drive stick,” she shouted at him, her hopes crushed. 

“You need to drive somewhere?” A deep voice came from behind her. Erica turned around and saw a tall, muscled guy descending the steps of her dorm with a box in his arms. He was wearing a lacrosse jersey and a big, warm smile. Next to him was a familiar girl, probably from another floor, and Erica imagined he was carrying her stuff out for the temporary move.

She gulped and turned on her pouty eyes. “My moving crew just bailed on me.”

He laughed and looked down the walk at Stiles’ retreating form. “Well, this is our last box. I can lend a hand if you need it. I’m free the rest of the day.” 

“That would be amazing! I’d love you forever!” Erica stuck the jeep keys in her pocket and stepped forward. “I’m Erica.” 

The tall drink of water handed the box off to the girl, murmured something about seeing her the next day and turned back to Erica. “Boyd. The name’s Boyd.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do a lot of people you tutor talk in detail about how nice your chest hair is?”

Isaac played with his hair absentmindedly and took a sip of tea. The sun had set, his apartment was dark, and the ambiance felt perfect for his date with Scott. Oh, the places his imagination wandered when Scott crossed his mind. He couldn’t quite place when he’d fallen for him. Had it been when Scott first approached with his excessive smiles and wide eyes? Or, maybe it was the soft touches and casual glances at Isaac’s lips? The way Scott seemed to be shy but at the same time have a vivacious thirst for goodness and knowledge. He’d been so interested in Isaac, almost invested, and it had been ages since Isaac had felt that from someone. 

His phone rang and he jumped. It was Lydia, and his heart sank for a moment. 

“Lydia.”

“Listen, Lahey,” she purred. “I need all the details about your blind date.” 

He smiled. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.” 

There was a long sigh on the other end before she continued her interrogation. “Do you like him? I know he’s not your type, exactly, but--” 

A knock sounded from Isaac’s front door and he dismissed Lydia’s inquiries and hung up. 

He pushed his hair back and then straightened his shirt so the v-neck dipped at precisely the right point, if he was being honest. Sauntering forward, he opened the door with a half smile, which grew the minute his eyes met Scott’s. 

There was Scott. No pretense, no fronts, just an easygoing guy with an unabashedly caring heart and nice eyes. Nice abs too, Isaac mused, from the small patch of skin he’d managed to see when Scott had pulled a sweatshirt over his head when last they met. 

“Come in, come in,” Isaac beckoned. He grabbed Scott’s arm and squeezed as the other man rushed inside. With his backpack. That damned thing came with him  _ everywhere _ , apparently. But Isaac liked that Scott seemed to take school  _ very _ seriously. He wondered if there were other things he might attend to with such devotion. Or, he hoped. 

Scott was standing by the coffee table eyeing the candles with a somewhat petrified look on his face. Isaac kept smiling. 

“You should take that bag off your shoulder.” Isaac approached and pushed the strap off, letting the bag hit the floor with a thud. He was close now. He was sure if he leaned in, Scott would close his eyes. He’d have to, because they couldn’t get any wider. So Isaac cupped Scott’s shoulders, rubbed small circles over them, and went in for the kiss.

Scott’s lips tasted like pizza and cherry coke, and barely moved to meet Isaac’s own. So he pressed forward. Scott grabbed his neck and returned the kiss, and suddenly Isaac felt the charge of something exchange between them. When he pulled away, Scott was looking at him with a bewildered expression. 

“That was unexpected,” Scott finally managed to say. 

Isaac raised a brow. “Was it?”

“Man,” Scott sighed. “You are the worst math tutor ever. How am I supposed to calm down and study now?” 

“Math tutor?” Isaac shook his head. His blood had been rushing heatedly south, but suddenly he felt cold. 

Scott kicked his book bag. “Yeah, Lydia said you were the best, but I’m definitely going to fail that test tomorrow.” 

Isaac glanced at his phone on the counter and frowned. “Lydia said…” He squinted and turned back to Scott. “You were at the T & G for tutoring the other day.” 

“You were there to meet me,” Scott explained and then realization hit Isaac like a brick. Scott seemed to catch on too. “You’re not,” he began, “You’re not the math tutor.” 

“Lydia,” they both said. 

###

Derek managed to settle in fine after the bizarre look the barista sent him when he’d ordered. He had seventy tests to grade and all night to do them apparently since he wouldn’t be tutoring. 

He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that. Lydia had been no help. She’d even seemed entertained by the turn of events, not worried for her friend’s grade. 

Grabbing the answer key, he opened the folder of scribbled papers and began grading. A few minutes passed and he found a rhythm, slashing red and shaking his head at the points students lost over careless mistakes. He had just begun making notes on those mistakes to go over in class, but was interrupted when the chair across from him skidded out from the table. 

“You are a hard person to get a hold of,” Stiles sat, flushed. He looked determined and Derek turned his head and darted his eyes away, his thoughts immediately gravitating toward activities inappropriate for a coffee shop. “What,” Stiles continued. “You didn’t seem to mind talking to me the other night.” 

Derek scoffed and looked back to him. “You were brazenly hitting on me!” Stiles’ eyes widened and he licked his lips. Derek’s eyed Stiles’ mouth and then he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “How am I supposed to tutor someone when all I want to do is kiss them?” 

“I don’t need you to tutor me.” Stiles pushed forward over the table and grabbed Derek’s arm. “I need you to bone me.” 

His mouth dropped. Derek couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “What--” 

“Boys,” chimed Lydia and both of their heads swung up to see her standing next to the table. “I’m afraid we have a case of mistaken identity here. Somehow,” she pointed to Stiles, “this idiot managed to mess up the blind date I sent him on, and instead sat at your table Derek. But shame on you, I told you the guy’s name you’d be tutoring was Scott.” 

“I--I thought about that,” Derek sat back against his chair. Stiles was staring at him, mouth agape, eyes darting across Derek’s face and then down to the table, a blush creeping up his neck. 

Finally Stiles managed to say, “You aren’t my blind date? Of course not. Why would anyone set me up with someone as--” 

“Stiles,” Lydia interrupted. “This was all a big mix up.” 

“I’ll say.” 

A tall blond approached the table and looked Stiles up and down and frowned. Derek felt a bit defensive at the implication that Stiles was something to frown at. Behind the newcomer, another guy walked up, eyeing the situation and clutching the strap of his bag like it might save him from what was unfolding.  _ There, _ Derek thought. That must be the one he was supposed to tutor. 

“Scott?” Derek motioned for him to come sit down. The guy questioned it for a split second, but upon noticing the open math tests littering the table, took a seat next to Derek. 

“This? This hipster?” Derek heard Stiles say. He looked up in time to see the tall blond bat Stiles’ hand away from his scarf. 

###

Erica couldn’t help but smile as she handed a caramel macchiato off to Lydia Martin.  

She’d texted Stiles the minute Derek had walked into the building. If anything, as a barista, she was morally obligated to see all the meet cutes she witnessed through to their bitter or sexually charged ends. She’d expected there to be some awkwardness, some glaring, perhaps icy flirting. What she hadn’t expected was Lydia Martin showing up in the middle of Stiles’ flailing mating dance with Isaac Lahey and Scott McCall in tow. 

Erica couldn’t stop her eyebrows from raising at the sight of Isaac’s arm curled around Scott’s waist, or the mild slap he gave Scott’s ass when he moved forward to sit with Derek. She couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping when Stiles stood up and grabbed Isaac’s scarf in disapproval and gawped, “This? This hipster?” 

She’d had to wait on a study group after that, and missed most of what Lydia said to them. She caught the, “mistaken identity”, “really now, you can’t blame me”, and “I’ll apologize for nothing”, but was smirking after Lydia said, “It worked out though? Didn’t it? Look at you Isaac, you can’t keep your hands off Scott. And Derek, the gaze you’ve been throwing at Stiles is more heated than most people’s sex lives. Mine excluded.” 

It all seemed to quiet down after that and Lydia ordered her drink to go. Erica winked when she handed it off to the redhead, and turned her attention back to finishing her shift duties. A few minutes after Lydia had left, Erica heard Isaac say, “Text me,” to Scott and watched as the blond ducked out of the coffee shop. Scott and Derek were scouring over a textbook and scribbling away. Stiles sat at the same table, looking intently at something on his phone. 

After about ten minutes, she heard Stiles ask, “You really thought I was there for tutoring?” 

Glancing up, she saw Derek shrug. 

“Do a lot of people you tutor talk in detail about how nice your chest hair is?” 

Scott groaned and kicked Stiles under the table. “Hey, I’m trying to make up for lost tutoring here.” 

“I’m trying to make up for lost time with my paramour,” Stiles practically purred and winked at Derek. Erica snorted, and Stiles glanced up. Shaking his head, he stood. “But I guess I’ll leave you to it.” 

Stiles approached the counter and sighed. “Thanks for the tip off, by the way.” 

Erica winked. “No problemo, Stilinski.” She untied her apron and threw it in the dirty laundry under the counter. Her replacement had arrived and her shift was finally over. She was just thankful she’d been able to witness what had just transpired before she left. 

“Hey, you wanna go to that improv thing tonight? I’ve got some time to kill while those two--” he shook his head back in the direction of Scott and Derek. “Do the math.”

“I’d love to,” Erica said, and she would’ve totally gone with him. She loved improv. “But I’m sort of meeting up with someone.” 

“Oh?” 

The bell on the door rang and Erica’s smile widened when Boyd came in. 

“Oh,” Stiles nodded and appraised Boyd with a knowing look. “I’d be concerned if you didn’t leave with him,” he said. 

By the time she’d grabbed her things and headed to the door with her hot date, she’d lost track of Stiles. She’d gotten a bit lost in Boyd’s smile, and her cheek was still ablaze where he’d kissed her. As they went to leave, Boyd held the door for her, and she took a final glance around the shop. 

Her eyes found Stiles hovering over Derek’s shoulder, his fingers skimming the v of Derek’s shirt. She shook her head as Derek slapped his hand away. The grad student seemed intent to keep his attention on the work in front of him. But Stiles leaned over him even more, this time tracing his fingers down the sleeve of Derek’s shirt to his elbow. Derek lifted his head and with a huff grabbed Stiles’ arm and pulled him into his lap. Stiles squeaked and Erica blinked.

“Is it always like this in here?” Boyd asked from the doorway, and pointed to Derek as the man clutched at Stiles’ sides and held him in a searing kiss. 

Erica fanned herself and turned to Boyd. “Only once or twice, really,” she smiled. 


End file.
